why we love the sea
by vampirecannibal
Summary: the parkinsons have just moved to a new house, it's... not a great one and the neighbour is both mysterious and annoying
1. chapter one

**chapter one. **

The new house is... weird.

It's small, much smaller than Pansy is used to, not that she expected much different. Money's been tight ever since dad lost his job, that's why they moved.

Besides the size, the house is old, more of a cottage. The wood paneling is warped and shoddily cleaned of mould. It's not raining, but the roof in the sitting room is leaking. It rained last night, maybe there's still a pool of water up there. The floor under the leaking spot it rotted.

Mum covers it with a potted plant and the floor creaks under its weight. The floor always creaks.

There's no dining room. The kitchen is only big enough for two people at a time. There's technically only one bedroom, so Pansy gets the attic.

Her mattress is nice, at least. It's from the old house, but it's just the mattress.

Mum says they'll get more money soon so they can make the house nicer. Pansy hopes she's right.

She wishes she could enjoy the porch and the nearby sea and forest, but it's so dreary that even looking outside depresses her. Then again, being inside depresses her too.

Either way, she ends up outside with a tin of pencils and paints and a sketchbook. Despite the gloominess, it's a pretty place. Pansy just wishes she could appreciate the beauty from a distance. In photographs and paintings from her old room in her old house.

It's weird that there isn't a single sign of any animal, except for the gnats and mosquitoes. Of course, Pansy wouldn't stay here if she had any choice in the matter either.

Pansy spends quite some time sketching the surroundings. She doesn't have much else to do yet since the internet isn't set up, so she pays close attention to every little detail of everything she draws and takes as much time as she possibly can.

She returns inside when mum tells her that dinner is ready and after the small meal she retreats to her room.

She spends quite some time just staring up at the ceiling.

It's sharply slanted to a pointed seam far above Pansy's head, though she can easily touch the ceiling at the edges of the room.

She stares up at the ceiling, speckled and slanted and warped, until she falls asleep.

* * *

The sun is hazy, drifting through the smudged, dirty window and dimly illuminating the gloom of the attic.

Pansy struggles to wake up even more than usual, but eventually can't stand the stuffiness of the room and leaves the house all together, this time with a book.

It's mid July, but the cool sea breeze has Pansy shivering and wrapping herself in a thin blanket.

Dad comes out and joins her for a bit out on the porch. He talks about mum's search for a closer job and how the electrical guy should be coming soon so he can start his job hunt as well.

After lunch, Pansy helps a bit with unpacking. Dad says it's good for her to get off the internet for a bit. She disagrees because now she has nothing to do, but she doesn't say this.

The doorbell rings.

"Maybe the electrical guy is early," dad says and quickly leaves the room.

Pansy hears the door open and smells the wafting, heavy scent of yeast. She hears people talking, but can't quite make out the words, then the door closes and dad comes back with a plate of bread.

"We've got neighbours," he says. "They're dentists."

Dad bites into a piece of bread and makes a pleased sound.

"This is really good! Here, try it." He holds out a slice to Pansy, who wordlessly takes it. It does taste pretty good. "They have a daughter your age, maybe you could head over there and hang out sometime."

"Maybe."

She won't.

When mum gets home, it's dark out and she's clearly in a bad mood. She snarls at dad when he tries to tell her about the neighbours and retreats into her room. Dad scowls and goes outside with a slice of bread dunked in brandy. Pansy abandons the box she's unpacking and goes up to her room.

* * *

The electrical guy doesn't come the next day. Dad is upset, so Pansy leaves the house and doesn't go back inside until it's too dark and cold for her to stay out. Mum still isn't back yet.

Pansy struggles to open the window in her room and coughs as a cloud of dust blows in her face. She scowls and swats away the dust.

As she leans out of the window, she sees particles floating around the corners of her vision. She inhales deeply in an attempt to stamp out the heavy mustiness of her room.

After letting out the breathe, she notices someone walking out towards the sea from the only other house for quite a while. The only thing Pansy can tell about the person is her wild, brown hair.

She assumes she's the neighbours' daughter. Or maybe the daughter's mother. She doesn't really care, honestly, so she retreats back into her room and retrieves her paints and sketchbook.

The girl dives into the water.

* * *

Pansy doesn't like water. She doesn't like how it makes her cold, or how her hair clings to her face or the very sensation of _wetness _. And she especially hates when her clothes get wet.

That's why she's so distressed when she falls into the sea.

She was just looking for a flower along the edge of the grass that abruptly ends and drops off to the sea. Of course she trips over her own damn feet.

She's quick to scramble out and almost goes back to the house to change and get dry, but the electrical guy is there. That's why she's outside in the first place, she absolutely refuses to let some stranger see her in disgusting, sopping wet clothes.

Pansy scowls at her sweater, clinging to her arms and chest and stomach uncomfortably, and her trousers, hanging heavily like they might just fall off. She thinks there's water in the pockets.

Pulling the pockets of her trousers inside out proves her right.

She groans and drops down to the ground. She pulls off her sweater and starts wringing it out on the grass.

Water trickles out of the soft fabric, running over her fingers and down her bare arms in the most uncomfortable way. She throws the sweater onto the ground momentarily tries wiping the water off of her with her shirt before remembering that that too is dripping with the stuff and actually makes it worse.

"Shit," she mutters and falls back with a groan.

The sky is gloomy, which she is very quickly growing used to. There are a lot of clouds, and just like the supposedly bright blue sky, are painted with slate greys. The place is beautiful, but it's fucking depressing to live in.

* * *

The request to return the plate to the neighbours comes with the usual amount of underlying messages about not going outside enough. Pansy considers smashing the plate on the doorstep, or maybe throwing it into the sea.

But she doesn't.

She treks across the uneven land, narrowly avoiding twisting her ankles a few times.

When she reaches the house, she knocks harshly on the bright white door. The house is a lot nicer than Pansy's. She doubts it has any rotted floor boards or mouldy walls. It's bigger too.

Pansy scowls just as the door opens.

The person in the doorway is undoubtedly the girl she saw out of her window. She's definitely the daughter - about the same age as Pansy, but at least a head shorter. Her hair is even wilder up close. She, oddly enough, has a quill shoved behind her ear.

"Yes?" she asks, then her eyes land on the plate and she says, "Oh! Is that our plate?"

"Er, yeah," Pansy says and holds it out to the girl. When she reaches for it, she notices a few dark stains on her hands, as if she's using ink. Maybe she's into calligraphy and has expensive taste in pens. Her parents are dentists, aren't they? The can definitely afford fancy things. Why do they even live here?

"Thank you," the girl says and tucks the plate under her arm. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"Pansy Parkinson."

"It's nice to meet you, Pansy."

"Right..."

She almost winces at the clumsily navigation of the interaction on her part, but Hermione seems not to notice, or seems used to equally inept actions. Pansy is not used to this type of conversation.

"Bye," she says before the silence can go on for too long. She immediately turns on her heels and begins walking away. The door closes seconds later.

* * *

It's the weekend and mum has caught a fish with her bare hands.

It's a pretty interesting sight, so Pansy takes a picture as the fish writhes in mum's hands. Pansy doesn't like fish, so she's hoping mum drops it, but she doesn't.

It takes her a moment to light the rusty grill that came with the house, but once she does, she drops the fish on it and says, "Looks like I'll be learning to grill today."

Pansy hopes the fish burns.

* * *

The fish doesn't burn, so Pansy has to suffer through eating a shoddily grilled unknown fish for lunch. It's disgusting and she knows mum thinks so too because she gives Pansy significantly more of it.

When she finishes her food, Pansy goes outside to avoid her mum, who is now trying to clean the house. She sits under a tree with her phone, now able to actually use most of the apps.

The sound of splashing slowly makes itself present. It grows louder and louder until there's a final _plunk! _and she finally looks up.

Hermione Granger is walking towards her, dripping wet, hair pulled back into a tight bun and wearing a swimming suit. Pansy wonders how she can stand the cold sea water.

She sits a few trees away from Pansy and leans against the trunk, breathing heavily.

"Going for a nice icy swim, are you?" Pansy asks.

"It's hardly icy," Hermione answers as she pulls the hair tie out and begins combing her fingers through her mass of curly hair.

"Still too cold."

Hermione shrugs. "Maybe. But it's the best I get since I can't swim at school, so it's either now or never."

It figures that she'd go to boarding school. It's probably somewhere fancy, that must be where all the money that would have gone to a normal house goes. Pansy's family used to have money, but never enough to go to some fancy boarding school.

Pansy goes back to her phone and they don't talk again.

* * *

The next time Pansy goes outside, it's to collect flowers to press into her sketchbook. There aren't nearly as many flowers around here as there were around the old house and what they have here are mostly just dandelions and weird little things that Pansy can't identify.

She sees Hermione Granger swimming in the sea again.

* * *

Pansy dearly wishes there was_ anything _nearby. She would even take a grocery store over this nothingness. She can't stand being cooped up like this where the only things she can do are draw, paint, use her phone and her laptop. She misses _doing _things, _going _places.

She used to like going to a coffee shop to do some reading and drawing, or walking around the stores. The dying arcade was also nice, as were the bookstores. Pansy never really had any friends, so she has no one to talk to now but mum and dad, which is just sad.

"You look bored."

Pansy turns to look at Hermione. She's standing a few meters away, a bag slung over her shoulder. Pansy sits up.

"That would be because I am," she replies. "There's _nothing _to do here."

"There's plenty to do here."

Pansy scoffs. "I doubt that."

Hermione frowns. "No, you can swim. You can hike. You can read, I've got a lot of books you could borrow. You've got a phone, you could pick up photography. There's quite a lot to take pictures of."

Pansy lets herself fall back down and stares up at the sky. "Right, that all sounds _so _fun."

"They _are _fun. Seriously, I could lend you some books about the local flora and fauna-"

"So animals actually _do _live around here?"

"Obviously. They're mostly fish and insects, though, which are very fascinating in their own right. The plant life around here is really interesting, though."

"Hm."

Hermione huffs and stalks away.

* * *

A stack of books are shoved into Pansy's arms. She swears and snaps, "What do you think you're _doing _?"

"Giving you something to do," Hermione answers, backing away in response to Pansy attempting to return the books.

"I have something to do, I'm getting the mail."

"Well, you can read after you've done that."

Pansy groans. "Fuck, fine. Take these back so I can get into the letterbox."

Hermione hesitates.

"Take them or I'll drop them into the sea."

She's quick to take them after that.

Pansy is hoping that she goes away, but she doesn't. She walks with her all the way to the letterbox by the road.

"You know, I _do_ have my own books," Pansy says when sits down on the porch. She winces at it creaks it under her weight. "If I wanted to read, I would. If you give these to me, I probably won't read them."

"So you don't like reading?" Hermione asks, putting the stack down before sitting beside Pansy. Pansy's feet rest squarely on the ground, her's dangle.

"I love reading."

"But-"

"I need a certain environment to concentrate on books. This isn't that environment."

Hermione looks as if she wants to argue, but she doesn't. She only opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again to say, "Alright." A pause. "So what _do _you do?"

Pansy shrugs. "None of your business."

"Very mature."

"I don't need to be _mature _."

Hermione sighs. "I like swimming, reading, I've dabbled some with writing-"

"What are you doing?"

"Telling you what I like so you might tell me what you like."

"_ Why _?"

"Because we're neighbors and we could be friends. The summers do get awfully lonely."

"And what about the rest of the year?" Pansy asks, though she already knows the answer.

"Well, I'm at school the rest of the year. I might come back for the winter holidays, I have the last two years."

Pansy huffs and lets herself fall backwards so she's on her back, her feet no longer touch the ground. "Is it one of those fancy academies? Bet you could afford a nice expensive place."

"I would hardly call Hogwarts an _academy _." Pansy can't help the derisive snort the name elicits. "I suppose it could be considered prestigious in a way."

There's a pause.

"Do you know much about the local schools?" Pansy asks.

"Oh, yes," Hermione says energetically. "I looked into all of them before I knew I'd been accepted to Hogwarts. What do you want to know?"

"We, are any of them any good?"

Hermione immediately launches into a tirade of the pros and cons of the two nearest schools, which really are not that near at all. She only stops when mum gets back from work and Pansy is certain that that is the first time she's ever been glad to see her mother.

"I see you've been friendly," mum says when Hermione leaves. "Getting on with the neighbors' girl, are you? What's her name? Something long... a bit weird..."

Pansy doesn't supply the name and it doesn't occur to mum, so the conversation stops there and mum storms into the house, muttering, suddenly furious, wondering when dad will finally find a job.

Pansy follows mum into the house, but quickly runs up the stairs to avoid her attention.


	2. chapter two

**chapter two.**

"So you _do_ do things."

Pansy looks up and scowls. It's Hermione Granger, of course. She's been increasingly present in Pansy's day to day life for the past week. Pansy had asked her why, Hermione said she was done with her homework so she had time to get to know her now.

"I've spent a lot of time alone in my life," she had said, "and it's not very fun."

"So it's so your aren't alone?" Pansy had asked with a raised eyebrow.

"And so you aren't alone," Hermione had insisted.

"Of course I do things," Pansy responds. "Everyone does something."

"Yes, well, you've never told me what you do. And painting is a very interesting thing to do."

"Not really."

"Can I see some of your paintings?"

"Er... no."

Hermione sits beside Pansy with a book in hand. It's one of the rare times her hair isn't dripping salt water.

"Has your dad had any luck with his job search?"

"No."

"What did he do before you moved here?"

Pansy sighs. "Something with computers, I don't know."

"Hmm... I don't know of many local jobs that have to do with computers."

"Yeah, that's kind of the problem."

"Hm."

Pansy adjusts herself so Hermione can't see her sketchbook and resumes painting the flower beside her. She isn't sure what it is, maybe a strange sort of daisy? All the flowers are weird here.

Hermione leans back on her hands and stares out at the sea. Pansy scuttles away from her, nudging her tin of watercolours along with her.

She finishes her painting and sets the sketchbook to the side to dry. She falls back and stares up at the sky. It's a beautiful pink-orange colour.

Mum is going to be home soon.

Artistically speaking, the look of Hermione sitting with her feet resting in the sea, backed by the bright sky dyed by the rising sun, is quite nice.

Pansy genuinely hates that she's up and outside this early, but all she can do is swear and curse her parents, who she can still hear arguing. She doesn't know why Hermione is up this early, but it wouldn't surprise Pansy if she routinely wakes up before the sun rises. She seems like an early riser.

She almost wants to paint her, but she doesn't and she won't. She doesn't even take a picture to paint later.

Mum storms out of the house and slams her car door.

Dad gets a job in I.T. at the nearby bank. Having him out of the house is good, an excellent change, even. Now she's alone for most of the day and it's great. Well, she's alone with Hermione isn't sitting a few feet away.

Even though she can be nosy and long winded, she doesn't talk much. Pansy doesn't like having Hermione there, but she doesn't dislike her presence either, as long as she isn't talking.

At one point Hermione asks Pansy if she knows which school she'll be going to when the summer ends. Pansy tells her and Hermione expresses sympathy. She'd tried to be impartial when explaining about the schools before, but the one she's being sent to is worse in just about every aspect other than the football team.

"I hear that the food is better there, though," she supplies.

"That's _great_," Pansy drawls.

"They also have a pool."

"Then maybe we should switch schools."

Hermione smiles and says, "No, I can't swim in pools. The chlorine irritates my skin. Plus, it's bad for your hair."

"It's a good thing I don't swim then. I've been told my hair is my best feature."

"Nonsense, you have plenty of other wonderful things about you."

Pansy raises an eyebrow curiously. "Such as?"

"Well, you're good at painting, you make nice company even if you're a bit, um, blunt, I've seen you reading sometimes and you have good taste in books."

"I'm flattered. You're less annoying when you're complimenting me."

"Um... no problem?"

It's rare that Pansy gets Hermione stumbling like that, so she smiles to herself as she turns back to her laptop. She's already signed up for classes and the biology class she's taking has homework assigned before school has even close to started.

Hermione leaves not long afterwards, Pansy sees her emerging from her house mere minutes later and diving into the sea.

Dad comes home, happier than usual, and sits on the porch. Pansy goes back to her room.

Hermione has a cat.

Pansy doesn't know how she hadn't seen the big, mangy thing before, but he's a bit scary. He's probably the biggest cat Pansy has ever seen, his fur is orange and wild and his face is squashed in a very strange way. She supposes he's cute, in the way only a cat can be, but sometimes she isn't even entirely sure that it's a cat.

"His name's Crookshanks," Hermione tells her as she pets the cat. He's sitting on her lap.

"Let me guess," Pansy says, "he loves swimming just as much as you do."

Hermione laughs and says, "No, actually. He _hates_ water. But he's quite smart." She looks as if there's something more she wants to say, to continue to brag about her cat's intellectual prowess, but she doesn't and Pansy can't say she cares very much about the exploits of a cat, no matter how smart.

Mum seems to be angry most of the time now. Pansy isn't quite sure why. She thinks she regrets moving here. She also suspects that she resents dad for losing his old job.

It's completely rubbish, honestly, that they had money, then _didn't, _so they had to move to somewhere much cheaper, so there were fewer job options, especially higher paying ones. It's also rubbish that mum seems to blame dad for this. Dad is trying to stay happy.

Mum starts smoking again. She quit a while ago, but Pansy keeps finding her outside with a cigarette and a lighter that she flicks with such unsteady agitation that Pansy can't help but worry about the sparks that occasionally fall from it.

She mutters about long drives and inconsiderate bosses and money.

One day, she turns to Pansy and says, "Never move to a stupid, run down isolated shit hole like this."

The next morning, Pansy finds out that she had been fired for not being able to spend as much time at work.

"You're not as young as you used to be, either," dad says and mum puts out her cigarette on his hand. "They must have a local newspaper," he says in an attempt to make it up to her once he's done hissing over his hand, but she just scowls and mutters how that's not the same as being a reporter for the whole region.

"Do you know about any local newspapers?" Pansy asks Hermione one day, desperate to get her mum out of the house again.

Hermione shakes her head. "No, there isn't one as far as I know. Everyone just gets one of the Northumberland papers."

Pansy groans and Hermione slowly drops herself into the sea.

Every day is a horror with mum home. She can't seem to go ten minutes without mocking Pansy in some way or another. Pansy wishes she could take mum's lighter and set her hair on fire.

She wishes school would just start already so she could get away from the hag.

"Why don't you just start your own magazine," dad says one morning and mum nearly bites his head off. She actually _growls_ before storming out of the house. "Your mum's a right piece of work," he says to Pansy.

He leaves for work.

Mum comes back inside and sets up her laptop in the sitting room. Pansy goes outside with nothing but her phone in an attempt to limit the time she spends in the same room as the fuming woman.

Maybe she should climb one of those trees...

She pockets her phone and begins walking between the trees, looking for one with a good foothold. She's just secured her foot on a low hanging branch and is beginning to hoist herself up when someone says, "Expanding your repertoire of hobbies, I see."

Pansy nearly falls out of the tree as she staggers and turns to look at Hermione. Swinging a leg around to sit on the branch, she scowls.

"No one would call it a 'repertoire of hobbies,'" she replies hotly.

"Well, what would _you _say?"

"I wouldn't say it at all."

"Yes, but if you were the theoretically need to say something that means a repertoire of hobbies, but you refuse to say it like that, what would you say?"

"Fuck, I don't know. I would never be in a situation like that. All I know is no one says 'repertoire of hobbies.'"

"Well, _I_ say it," Hermione points out.

"Yes, I'd noticed."

"That means someone says it."

"You're just intentionally being annoying now."

Hermione scowls and turns on her heel. She sits down a few trees away and opens up the book she's carrying.

Pansy slowly stands, holding onto the trunk as she balances on the branch. She reaches for the next branch and continues climbing for another two branches, then she gives up and slowly shuffles herself down to the ground and lies down on the ground.

The clouds are nice, if a little disorienting. The wind is strong, so she can see the clouds moving.

"It's nice today," Hermione says. "It always gets nice around this time of year. It starts warming up a bit. It's a shame that I'm leaving next week. I'll miss most of the nice weather."

"Hm."

The next time Pansy looks up, Hermione is standing and pulling off her large, murky red sweater. Underneath it is a bathing suit. She runs up to the edge of the sea and dives. The water splashes high up into the air and sloshes onto the grass.

Pansy leans back again and returns to watching the clouds move and sway in the wind.

It's the first time Pansy has gotten away from the house since moving there, unfortunately she's with her mum looking for school supplies.

"We need to get cheap things this year," mum says, eyes hovering between the different back to school displays.

When Pansy reaches out for a pack of pens, mum slaps her hand away and says, "We have pens at home." The same things happens when she tries to get a pack of pencils, but this time, she argues and says that she's almost out of pencils and needs them. Mum grabs a smaller pack, scowling as she does.

It's very noticeable when Hermione leaves. The sudden lack of her presence is... disconcerting.

Pansy would almost say that she misses her, but she won't and she doesn't, she doesn't even think about it, really. She supposes she's lonely, she _knows_ she needs someone to talk to who isn't a horrible shrew.

With the start of the school year, Pansy becomes incredibly aware of the fact that she is, indeed, very lonely as she's now surrounded by groups of people who have been friends their whole lives. She's left on her own to read and doodle and do last minute homework.

It's fine, really. It's different, but it's fine.


	3. chapter three

**chapter three.**

When Hermione returns, she seems different. A bit jittery and nervous. Pansy knows she doesn't know her very well, but it's still weird, seeing her acting so very, very different than she's used to.

She doesn't ask if she's alright, even though she wants to.

Hermione, when she isn't swimming, is typically holed away in her house. She says she's doing her summer homework.

"I especially need to get it done early this year," she explains one day, sitting by Pansy and wringing out the wetness from her long, curly hair. "I'm spending almost all of August with some friends."

Pansy feels something sink in her gut when she hears this. She isn't entirely sure why, she just knows that something about that information makes her feel like shit. She decides not to voice this feeling or further examine it in any capacity.

It's mid June, but it's still cold around here, with the breeze coming from the dreary, dreary sea. Pansy wonders how Hermione can stand it, the water is undoubtedly freezing.

Hermione stands in front of Pansy, dressed in a swimsuit, yet completely dry.

"I finished my homework," she says.

Pansy simply stares at her for a few moments before replying with a simple, confused, "Okay?"

"Come swimming with me."

"What?"

"Come swim in the sea with me," Hermione repeats. "It's much nicer than it looks. Plus there are some interesting fish."

Pansy shudders. "No, absolutely not."

"Come on," she urges. "Why not?"

"I'm not much of a swimmer," Pansy says. "I don't like water. I don't like fish. I don't like salt. Swimming in the sea is pretty much my version of Hell."

Hermione frowns and tilts her head. "Really? That's a very tame Hell."

She doesn't press anymore and dives into the water.

Pansy spends a lot of time painting, more so than usual. She paints bread and flowers and the sea. She paints the sea a lot. She hate's water, but it's surprisingly fun to paint. She's gotten really into landscape paintings.

Is that a damn owl?

"Was that a damn owl?"

Hermione looks up from what is supposedly her desk on the other side of the open window.

"Uh..."

"Why was there an owl?" Pansy persists.

"Owls can do whatever they want; they're wild animals, after all."

"Yes, it seemed very wild."

"Pansy."

"What?"

"What are you doing here?"

Pansy huffs exaggeratedly she takes up a mournful expression. "I didn't realize you didn't want me here. Oh well, time to walk all the way to the village."

Hermione looks very unimpressed.

"What, am I not allowed over here or something?"

"No," Hermione says, "I'm just genuinely curious. The only other time I've seen you over here is when you were returning that plate."

Pansy shrugs. "I figured I could find something new to paint. Or an interesting angle of something."

Hermione lights up. "I think I know a pretty nice spot, I could show you!"

"Could you."

"Yes, just give me a moment, meet me at the front door."

"Just climb out the window."

She looks absolutely scandalised and Pansy can't help laughing. Hermione flushes and shuts her window. Pansy can see her leaving her room, so walks around to the front of the house and waits by the steps up to the porch.

Hermione emerges looking excited and, seemingly without thinking, grabs Pansy's hand and begins dragging her away. They run along the shoreline and Pansy wonders his far they're going, but she must be more out of shape than she thought because she's soon too out of breath to talk, so she can't ask.

They end up running up a craggy hill, it's got a pathway, but it's crude and clearly just from someone repeatedly walking along it.

Pansy is incredibly relieved when Hermione finally stops.

"Here we are," she says.

It really is beautiful. The rocks of the cliff, the task trees surrounding them and framing the view of the ocean, which is painted beautiful colours by the sun which had only just begun to set.

"Wow," she breathes, clutching her paints to her still heaving chest. Hermione is still holding her hand.

And then she lets go of Pansy and turns to face her. "I like to do homework up here," she says. She's smiling. "I've always thought it was quite an enchanting sight, don't you agree?"

Pansy nods. "Yeah, it's... amazing."

It's too late to start painting, but Pansy takes a picture to remember the colours of the water and sits down with Hermione. They don't talk much at all and it's very nice. Just sitting and watching the gentle waves and softly blowing leaves.

"Is that a lighthouse?" Pansy asks one day.

She and Hermione are sitting up on the hill, Hermione is reading, Pansy is painting and she's just noticed something in the distance that looks quite a lot like a lighthouse.

Hermione looks up, follows Pansy's gaze and looks back at her. "Oh, yeah. No one's used it for a long time, though."

"Huh."

Pansy turns back to her sketchbook and continues painting the treeline.

Mum recommends a family outing over breakfast. Dad doesn't like the idea and neither does Pansy. Of course, mum doesn't really appreciate the disagreement.

"We need to save money," dad reasons.

"We won't go anywhere expensive," mum replies, tone sharp enough to cut. "Just drive to the aquarium in town."

Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. "I suppose we can do that. Yes, that sounds good."

"Do I have to go?" Pansy asks.

"Yes," both mum and dad say at once.

"Why?"

"Because it's a _family_ outing," mum says, voice considerably colder than before. "So you'll be going."

Pansy, who suffers from a perpetual bad mood when around her parents, decides to further irritate her mum by saying, "Why even have a '_family outing_?' It's nonsense. And at an _aquarium_? I'm not eleven."

"We're going because we hardly ever see each other, _honey_," mum snarls through gritted teeth. "Families are supposed to _see_ each other."

"Well, we're seeing each other right now, aren't we?" Pansy snaps. "I hardly need to see more of you!"

The reaction is instantaneous, mum raises her hand and Pansy stumbles back so harshly she trips over her chair. Mum clenches her fist and slowly lowers it, but she remains glowering at Pansy, lip twitching.

Pansy is quick to leave the room, though she can very clearly hear her mum say, "What the fuck is wrong with that girl?" the second she goes through the door.

It hurts. Pansy hates to admit it, but it hurts. She's used to harsh words and bad tempers and being ignored but things as simple as 'what is her problem?' still wound her.

She finds herself knocking on the door to the Grangers.

Mr and Mrs Granger are at work right now, so of course Hermione answers it. She's noticeably surprised to see Pansy.

"What - uh, hi, Pansy - are you - are you alright?" she asks cautiously.

Pansy scowls. Does she _look_ bad? Just because her mum went and suggested going to the aquarium.

"I'm perfectly fine," she replies, crossing her arms. "Do you have a boat?"

Hermione blinks, taken aback, and says, "Er... no. Why?"

"We're going to that lighthouse."

"You're doing _what_? Hold a minute, _we_?"

"Yes, we. I'm not going there alone and I'm trying to get as far away from my parents as possible. Come on, let's get some food, we've got some hiking to do."

Hermione seems speechless as Pansy pushes her way past her. Her mouth moves wordlessly, but she eventually shows Pansy to the kitchen and helps her grab some food. Honestly, she's surprised that she's helping at all.

"I'm only doing this because I don't want you to get lost on the way there," she says after scribbling out a quick note to her parents. "And I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Too bad, we're doing it."

Hermione sighs, but follows Pansy out of the house and along the coastline. She's marching angrily, stomping through the dark grass and kicking the rocks in her way. Hermione doesn't speak much, she's probably trying to give her space.

Around noon, they've almost made it to the lighthouse, but they need to stop and rest. Pansy bites into a slice of bread and Hermione drinks from one of the water bottles she'd filled up.

When Pansy finishes eating, she stares out at the sea, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms folded around her legs. She watches the waves and the gentle blowing of the trees in the distance.

"So," Hermione says, sounding awkward and uncomfortable. "Did, er, did something... happen? This morning?"

Pansy opens her mouth to tell Hermione to piss off, but instead just laughs and says, "God, it's so fucking stupid. This is stupid. I'm an idiot."

For a second, Pansy thinks that Hermione is going to wrap an arm around her, but she doesn't. Pansy almost wishes she would.

"No, you're not stupid," Hermione says. "And I'm sure you have a good reason for getting upset."

"No. It's stupid. And I don't want to talk about it."

Pansy grabs the bag of food and gets to her feet. She starts walking again, this time faster than before.

She can hear Hermione scrambling to catch up but doesn't slow her pace.

The lighthouse is neat. Run down and desolate, but neat. It's the sort of place you only want to hang out at if you're being rebellious. And Pansy supposes she _is_ being rebellious.

The door is locked.

"D'you know how to pick a lock?" Pansy asks, though she supposes the answer is obvious.

"No, of course not," Hermione replies.

Pansy sighs and walks away from the lighthouse down towards the jagged edge of the ground before it drops into the sea. She leans down and feels around in the tall grass until she wraps her hand around a rock.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asks suspiciously.

Pansy doesn't reply, instead she treads back to the lighthouse and smashes the window in the door.

Hermione gasps loudly and exclaims, "_Pansy!_"

Pansy pulls her sleeve up over her hand and reaches around to unlock the door. The broken shards dig into her arm and she curses as she has to lean into it to reach the lock.

When she opens the door, Hermione is by her side and babbling, telling her that she shouldn't have done that. That she could get tetanus or any other number of diseases from the glass and that she should get it cleaned at once.

Pansy shrugs her off. "It'll be fine."

"_Fine?_" she demands. "At _least_ go put your arm in the water, salt water is good for wounds."

"Hermione. I'm fine. I will be fine. Relax. Chill out, okay? We're here to pretend like everything else doesn't exist so just go with it."

She frowns. "What if your arm gets infected?"

"It'll be fine. Now, are you going to join me in this spooky abandoned lighthouse or am I gonna have to go all the way up to the top on my own?"

Hermione gives an exasperated look, but sighs and says, "Fine, I'll go with you to make sure you don't get killed. But I'm not happy about it."

They climb the winding, spiral staircase, skipping broken steps and stumbling over rotten ones.

The trapdoor to the top of the lighthouse swings open with a loud squeal. Pansy pulls herself up and Hermione follows.

Like the rest of the lighthouse, there's all sorts of cobwebs and dust over everything. The light is busted. A giant stick lies in the broken glass. A few of the windows lining the space are also broken. The stick must have been blown in by a storm.

Pansy unlatches one of the lower windows and sits with her legs dangling out in the air. Hermione tells her to be careful, but sits beside her, legs crossed.

They sit like that for a long time, just watching.

"It's really beautiful up here," Pansy says.

"Yeah, it is."


End file.
